I’m so happy today is Saturday and I don’t have to go to work. I couldn’t bear seeing Vivienne’s face on weekends. I’d tear it off. That woman is something else. But I refuse to ruin my weekend thinking of her and our snobby boss. Mr. Crawford is the most arrogant person I‘ve ever met. Every time I greet him at the office, he acts like I’m a ghost. He doesn’t say or ask me to do anything, and I don’t know if I should be happy about it.
I’m in a taxi on my way to visit Carson I’d planned to spend my weekend watching TV all day on the couch, but Carson asked me to see him. Maybe he wants to see how my first week at work went. I arrive and pay the taxi before walking to Carson’s mansion gate. The security guard lets me in the gate once he sees me through the cameras. I thank him before walking to the front door. I ring the bell and a, beautiful brunette opens the door.
“Hello, Eleanor,” Kassie says. She’s one of Carson’s housekeepers.
“Hello, Kassie, how are you doing today?” I ask and walk inside the house.
“I’m doing great, and how are you? I heard you got a job. I am so happy for you,” she says, smiling.
“I’m great, and thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Mr. Crawford is waiting for you in the garden.”
“Thank you,” I say, heading toward the garden.
I walk to the backyard where the garden is. There’s a fountain and white statues with lovely flowers planted between perfectly trimmed grasses. I find Carson reading a book on a bench and sneak up behind him to scare him.
“Hello, Carson” I say, close to his ear. He cringes in fear, but once he realizes it’s me, his face lights up.
“Oh, good God, you scared me, dear.”
“That was the plan,” I say, smiling.
“How’re you doing, dear?” he asks.
“I am doing great, and you, sir?”
“I’m doing wonderful. How was your first week at work?” he asks. I try my best to mask my face with the lie I’m about to tell.
“It was good. I can’t wait to get back next week,” I say with a fake smile. I hope he can’t see through it. I don’t want to tell Carson about how my first week really went. I don’t want him to scold his grandson because of me.
“Really? Jason isn’t making things difficult for you at the office?”
“No, he isn’t.” He only snubs me, so you have nothing to worry about. I make sure to leave that part out.
“That’s great. I was a little worried he might make things difficult for you in the office, but I’m glad I was wrong. I’m happy he’s not giving you a hard time,” he says, smiling.
I feel bad that I am lying to him, but it’s for the best. I don’t want to come between them just because Jason thinks I’m after their money and probably hates me.
“Me too. I’d like to ask something if you don’t mind,” I say, maintaining my fake smile as I think about work.
“Go ahead, dear.”
“Since he already has Vivienne as his secretary, why did you hire me?” This question has been on my mind all week. Since Vivienne is such a great secretary, why was I hired?
“I hired you because I believe Jason needs another secretary. The company is expanding; he and Vivienne can’t do all the work by themselves. They need an extra hand.”
“Oh.” What he says makes sense. But even though I was hired to reduce the workload for both of them, they don’t assign me anything work-related. But Carson doesn’t need to know that.
“Yes,” he says, smiling.
***
Monday comes faster than I wished. Last week I was excited to start working, but today I’m praying it goes well enough that witch Vivienne isn’t making me plan her death. I walk inside the building and greet Nora on my way to the elevator. While in the elevator, I can’t stop thinking about how Nora looked at me when I greeted her. Her eyes had this pitiful look in them. Was it for me? I don’t have anything going wrong in my life, so I wonder why she would pity me.
I step out of the elevator and quickly walk to the lunchroom to make coffee for Vivienne and Mr. Crawford. I didn’t stop to drop my bag first because if I’m a second late, Vivienne will make my day horrible, and it’s already bad enough when I’m not late. Once I’m done making coffee, I walk to Vivienne’s office to deliver hers and then to Mr. Crawford’s office to drop off his. I knock on the door and wait for him to say come in before stepping inside. He’s in a different position than he usually is, sitting on the edge of his desk with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks pissed off. Isn’t it too early to be pissed off?
“Good morning, sir,” I greet while placing his coffee beside him.
“Good morning, Eleanor,” he greets, smirking. Wasn’t he just frowning a minute ago? Is he bipolar or something? “How was your weekend?” he asks and takes a sip of his coffee. “Good?” he asks.
“Yes, It was good, sir. How was yours?” I ask because it seems he wants to make conversation. I’m happy he’s talking to me.
“Really? It was good? I’m not surprised because if yours was good, it’d explain why mine was so shitty,” he says, stepping dangerously close to me.
“I don’t understand what you’re saying, sir,” I say, scared with the change in his behavior and how he continues coming closer to me. I start to take tiny steps back from him.
“You don’t understand, Eleanor. You don’t understand,” he says repeatedly as he continues coming closer. He only stops when my back hits the wall, scaring me more. What’s going on? Why is he behaving so strangely?
“Yes, sir, I don’t understand,” I say, my eyes facing the ground, uncomfortable with how close he is. I wish I could push him away or tell him to step back, but I’m not that foolish. He’s angry about something. All I can think to do is try to calm him down and leave this office in one piece.
“So, you’re telling me you didn’t tell my grandfather Vivienne’s been making things difficult for you at the office? That I haven’t assigned any work to you?” he asks, his eyes widening.
“I didn’t tell your grandfather anything about work last week,” I tell him honestly.
How did his grandfather find out? I might’ve had a fake smile on my face while talking about work, but I didn’t mention anything that happened, so how would he know?
“Really? So explain to me how my grandfather knew everything that happened last week. And let’s not forget you visited him on Saturday.”
“Yes, I visited your grandfather on Saturday. But I didn’t tell him about how things are at work.”
“You want me to believe that?”
This isn’t good. I knew something like this would happen if I told Carson about how things are at work. That’s why I didn’t. Even after I lied to him, he still found out. Carson must’ve scolded his grandson, and that’s what I was trying to prevent. I start playing with my fingers, trying to think of a way to prove my innocence.
“Will you stop playing with your fingers and look at me?” he shouts. He pulls my chin up to look at him.
We lock eyes. I wish I wasn’t attracted to him. His eyes are so beautiful, and I can see myself getting lost in them. They’re pulling me into their lava of caramel. They’re like pools of sweet brown candy.
“Come back to earth and stop ogling my eyes,” he says, snapping his fingers in front of my face. He caught me daydreaming as I was staring in his eyes. I feel my cheeks heat up; I’m sure they’re bright red right now.
“Sir, I don’t know how your grandfather found out, but I didn’t tell him,” I say, hoping he’d believe me. But instead, he says something worse.
“It makes sense now. This was your plan,” he says, stepping away from me.
“What do you mean?” I ask, releasing a breath I didn’t know I was holding. His closeness was uncomfortable.
He continues to walk backward, away from me. He looks like he’s thinking about something. After several long minutes, he speaks.
“I should’ve known. You never planned to seduce me.”
“Excuse me?” I ask, confused with how this is related to what we were talking about.
“You want my grandfather to give you the company. Ha! You’ll have to kill me before you can do that. You’re fired,” he says, shocking me.
“What? I’m fired?” I ask, not believing his words.
“Yes, you’re fired.”
“Why? I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I can’t have someone like you in my office threatening my position as CEO. You’re fired.”
“Mr. Crawford, please, you can’t fire me. I’m not here to threaten your position,” I plead.
“I don’t believe you. Leave my office before I call security to throw you out.”
I consider begging him to reconsider but decide against it. Mr. Crawford is never going to trust me. He’ll always believe I’m after his money. I’m on the verge of tears, but I hold it in until I reach the bathroom.
I’m dumbfounded. I lost my job after a week because my boss thinks I’m out to get him. I shouldn’t be surprised. It was either he make my life living hell or fire me. I should be happy he fired me, but it hurts losing my job like this. I’m back to square one. How am I going to pay off my college debts now?
“Eleanor, I don’t pay you to sit around and look sad about your miserable life. Get to work,” Dave, my grumpy new boss, says. “Sorry,” I say, standing up from a chair in the kitchen. I just finished having lunch and was taking a break. “I don’t want your ‘sorry.’ I need you out there helping customers, so beat it,” he says, pushing me toward the entrance of the kitchen. Before I walk over to a table, I adjust my hair and check my uniform for any food stains. Once I look presentable, I approach the closest table to take their order. This is my life now—waiting tables. I was lucky to get this job. Uncle Jack had to beg his manager to hire me. It’s been two weeks since I was fired from the Crawford Wine Company. I’ve been avoiding Carson phone calls ever since. I don’t want to come between him and his grandson. They have a good relationship, and I can’t bear to be the person who ruins it. So I made a choice and decided I should stop being friends with Carson. “Welcome. What can I get
“Good morning, sir,” I greet Mr. Crawford for the second time this morning. I greeted him earlier when he arrived on our floor and passed my desk, but he ignored me. Once he arrived, he immediately asked to see me. He hasn’t said anything since I sat down in front of his desk. I greeted him again to make sure he knew I was here. “I know you’re here Eleanor, I’m not blind,” he says, keeping his eyes on the papers in front of him. “Of course not, sir,” I say, hoping I didn’t offend him. “I want you to do comprehensive, detailed research on this man. I want to know everything about him, and when I say everything, I mean everything,” he says, handing me a file with the name Umberto Moretti written on it. This is the first time he’s asked me to do something for him. The whole week I spent working for him, he never asked me to do anything. I’m thrilled things have changed. “Sir, there could be a thousand Umberto Moretti’s in the world. How will I know which one you need me to research?”
It’s been a few minutes since we got back to the office. I can’t help the feeling of dread that something terrible is going to happen to me. After the meeting finished, Mr. Crawford didn’t say a word to me the whole ride back to the office. I could feel his eyes glaring at the back of my head whole way. The worst part in all of this is, I don’t know what I did wrong. I’ve been pacing up and down around my desk while biting my nails. It’s a bad habit I do when I am nervous. I’m scared of Mr. Crawford doing something harmful to me. The bruise on my arm might not have been intentional, but it hurt. I imagine it could be much worse if he wants to hurt me intentionally. I jump in fear when I hear the phone ringing. I knew he’d call me to come to his office, but I didn’t think it would be this soon. I take my time to pick up the phone and answer. Before words can form in my mouth, he speaks and cuts the call. I’m lucky I was able to hear him before he hung up. I take three deep breaths bef
I don’t know when I fell asleep, but I know exactly when I woke up. The second Mr. Crawford’s voice registers in my brain. “Wake up,” he says loud in my ears. Instantly, I woke up with a jolt, jerking upright off my desk. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Crawford,” I say, rubbing my eyes. I was exhausted from the dinner party last night. I barely got any sleep. Why would someone even throw a party on Sunday night? “I never knew I paid you to sleep. And what did I say using that word around me?” he asks, getting angrier. Not knowing what else to say, I shut my mouth. “Bring two cups of coffee to my office in a five minutes,” he says before walking into his office. “Okay, sir,” I say and stand up to walk to the lunchroom to make the coffee. When I’m done making the coffee, I walk to his office to give it to him. I can’t help but wonder who the second cup of coffee is for. I don’t remember sending anyone to his office; maybe both cups are for him. I knock on his door and enter after he says to c
The following day starts off as usual until after lunch. I don’t know what they put in the burger I ate, but I’m sure I have food poisoning. I’ve been to the bathroom three times today in one hour. I don’t know how there’s anything left in my stomach. I go to Mr. Crawford’s office to drop off some papers he asked me to type. He’s not in his office, so I enter without knocking. He went out for a meeting with Vivienne. I place the documents on his desk, and as I’m about to take a step, I halt in my tracks. No, stomach, you can’t do this to me. I need to use the bathroom but I’m scared if I take a step the food in my stomach will take a step closer to leaving my body. Taking a deep breath, I try to move, but stop when I feel my body ready to betray me. If I can barely take a step, how am I going to make it to the restroom? I see Mr. Crawford’s bathroom only five feet away. I debate if I should use it. My stomach doesn’t give me enough time to think about the pros and cons of such a risk
“Do you guys know each other?” I ask, confused as to why they’re insulting one another. “You could say that,” Evan says, with an evil glint in his eyes as he stares at Amber. “I don’t know this rich snob,” Amber says, venom dripping in her words. “Wow, Amber. If you don’t know him, why do you keep insulting him?” I ask, confused at her hostility toward Evan. “I’ll tell you why. This morning he used his expensive car to splash water on me while I was standing beside the road. Then, when I asked him to buy me new clothes because he ruined mine, he said I was lucky he wasn’t pressing charges against me for hitting his car with my shoe.” “You hit his car with your shoe?” I ask, surprised she’d do that. Truthfully though, I shouldn’t be surprised. This is Amber we’re talking about. Even if a man were seven feet tall, Amber would still pick a fight with him. “She did. And thankfully it’s an expensive car, like she said, so the windshield was strong enough to suffer no damage,” Evan say
An hour later, I finally stop smiling. Carson introduced me to so many people my face felt like it was going to fall off if I smile at anyone else. I walk around, looking for something to eat and drink. I haven’t had anything in my stomach since I arrived. While I’m sipping my wine, someone startles me and I almost pour my drink on myself. “Do you have a death wish?” Mr. Crawford asks. We’re away from the party, so no one can see or hear us. I left the crowd to enjoy some time alone, but I think I made a mistake. Mr. Crawford looks like he wants to kill me, and there’s no one here to save me. “What do you mean?” I ask, taking a step away from him. His close proximity scares me right now. “You think I didn’t see you out there, getting to know all the board of directors? And to make it worse, you made sure to introduce yourself as my grandfather’s goddaughter.” “Mr. Crawford, I didn’t know the people your grandfather introduced me to were members of the board. He only introduced me
After a stressful day at work, I arrive home exhausted. “Uncle Jack, I’m home,” I say as I step inside the house. Today should be his day off if I’m not wrong. “Hello, Eleanor,” A female voice says. “What’re you doing here?” I glare at the woman in front of me. Adeline. “Eleanor, you’re home, so early,” Uncle Jack says, surprised to see me. “I’ve missed you too,” she says with a fake smile plastered on her face. I don’t know what Uncle Jack sees in women like her. She might be beautiful on the outside, but not on the inside. Adeline is a gorgeous brunette with brown eyes, standing 5’7” tall. She could still be a model at her age with those beautiful legs of hers and the way she’s been able to preserve her beauty. “I asked you what you’re doing in my house?” I ask a little louder. I don’t hate people, but I dislike this woman a lot because of what she did to Uncle Jack. “Eleanor, calm down. I can explain,” Uncle Jack says, putting his hands on my shoulders to ease me. “Explain